End it all
by lp55925
Summary: It's true what they say: 'You never know what you have until it's gone' Rated T for language and suicide. Mentions of rape and abuser latter on.
1. Chapter 1: Mom

**End It All**

**Disclaimer**: I obviously don't own South Park!

**A/N**: I will use a different chapter and POV for every message to each person.

* * *

Sighing I folded up the last piece of paper I will ever write on and placed it on my desk. I then took out the sleeping pills and smiled.

It's going to be over, finally, after four years of being depressed, having suicidal thoughts and being blatantly ignored by everyone I know. I think of everyone I mentioned in my suicide note.

My mom, Stan, Kyle, Kenny, Butters, Craig, Clyde, Token, Tweek, Jimmy, Timmy and finally Wendy. They have all been addressed and told how they made me miserable every single day.

I got onto my bed and took out all the sleeping pills and put them into my mouth. I swallowed my liberation down with a gulp of water and climbed into bed with a grin. That grin never faded as I drifted into my eternal slumber.

Finally, Eric Cartman is dead!

-**The next morning**-

-**7.55am**-

"Eric! Poopsikins, wake up, you can't miss another day of school! You're failing as it is!" called Leanne Cartman up the stairs. She sighed and decided it'll be best if she wakes him up herself. She got into the room of her son and walked towards his bed. She frowned to see him on his bed smiling. She tore the bed covers of her fat son revealing he was wearing his black suit. She then noticed that his chest wasn't rising or falling. It was deathly still. Slightly scared, Leanne touched his neck and froze.

"N-no, Eric, this isn't funny. **WAKE UP**! WAKE UP! Wake up, please." She pleads beginning to cry.

After an hour of uncontrollable crying over her son's cold, deceased body Leanne composed herself, stood up and looked at his desk were she found two letters. One was labelled 'Friends' the other 'Mum'. Leanne picked up, folded it over and began to read aloud, tears still streaming down her face.

"Dear mom.

"As you have already noticed, I have committed suicide. I doubt you care though! You never did, did you? Of cause you didn't. Why would you? I was just a burden to you, weren't I? I was just your bastard child! You never really loved me. You were just pretending. I was more of a friend to you, never a son. You just couldn't bring yourself to abort me!

"You were part of the reason I decided to end my life. You know why? Do you know how often I would asked you to get a 'real' job? No? It was every day since I started middle school. You know, I would have preferred anyone else as my parents. Even Kenny's family, poor as they may be. Do you want to know why? Because Kenny's family went to our school plays, even though they were meaningless and extremely stupid. They may have been alcoholics but at least they cared enough to eat dinner with him. Did you? NO! You just went around town selling your body to any man with fifty bucks to spare. Everyone else's parents remembered their kid's birthdays. Did you? NO! You cared more about other children's birthdays than you did your own son's! Most of the time I would see you in later years of my life you were either off you face on drugs or it was in the morning when I first woke up.

"Goodbye Mom. I just hope you'll at least miss me.

"Love, Eric"

Leanne cried for another thirty munities before composing herself. She picked up the second letter and headed towards her car.

-**South Park High**-

-**10am**-

I am in music class with my two best friends, Stan and Kyle. I like music class. I like it because it's the same class from when we were in Elementary school. We are in the middle of practising our song for this class when the Principle's voice plays through the intercom, "Could Kenny McCormick, Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, Butters Stotch, Craig Tucker, Clyde Donovan, Token Black, Tweek Tweak, Jimmy Valmer, Timmy Burch, and Wendy Testaburger please come to the principles office." We all sighed as we got out of our set.

"What do you think the Principle wants?" I ask Kyle as we walk towards the Principles office.

"I don't know Kenny, I don't know." Kyle sighs. We walk into the office and see Cartman's Mom crying. What the fuck did fatass do now?

Principle Miller looks at us grimly and sighs, "Your friend, Eric Cartman, was found dead in his room this morning."

We all gasped, wide-eyed. "C-Cartman's dead?" Stan muttered, a tear strolling down his cheek.

"There were two notes found on his desk, it seems he has committed suicide," What? Eric is dead, but also by his own hands. Who would have guessed? "In one of his letters all of you are addressed." She placed the letter on here desk and sighed, "I'm going to step out with Ms. Cartman, you lot can read the letter while we're gone!" they then stepped out of the room.

We all looked at the letter, tears rolling down some people's cheeks, others only just managing to hold theirs back. "S-so is s-s-someone g-g-going to p-p-pick up t-the l-letter or are we j-j-just g-g-go-g-going to s-s-s-stand, stand here l-looking at it?" Jimmy said stuttering more than normal. Stan the reaches out to pick it up and folded it over.

"Hey guys," Stan began, "If you are reading this I am dead, or in a hospital, that is if my mom had seen me taking the sleeping pills, but she was too busy selling herself for money. Anyway, I am dead and that's all partially your guys' fault, some, more than others.

"The reason I have finally decided to end it all is because I can't take the fact that nobody likes me anymore. You're all probably thinking something along the lines of, "What a hypocrite, he's killing himself because he thinks nobody likes him. That's his fault anyway." But is it? Is it really? Let me tell you something, the reason I was an asshole was because, in my eyes, all of your anger was directed mainly at me with the 'fatass' comments, so naturally, I directed all my anger at everybody else. I never meant one word of anything hurtful I said to any of you. I think the best way to do this is give you each a personal apology, a little reason, if necessary, as to why you may have been a reason as to why I have committed suicide, and my final good byes to you all. So here goes." I looked around at the others in the room and by now not one pair of eyes were dry.

Butters was bawling and I was comforting him, Tweek was twitching a lot more than usual while constantly needing to wipe away tears with the back of his hand. Kyle, honestly, didn't look sad but also didn't look happy either, he just looks…dead. Wendy and Stan were huddled together, Stan holding the letter in one hand, the other around Wendy. Timmy has his head in his hands and Jimmy is has his arm around Timmy. Craig had a look that said 'oh god what is he going to say about me' Clyde was just openly crying, as was Token. Me, I was shaking, not twitching like Tweek, but shaking. He's dead, and because of us, because we just pushed and pushed him! What is wrong with us? Were monsters! Not him... us!

We might as well get on with it. "Who's f-first Stan?" I asked, in between sniffles.

"Kyle!"

* * *

A/N: Each time someone reads from the letter it will be word-for-word from what is in the letter, there would obviously be sniffles and stutters thrown in there but I wont put them in the speech marks.


	2. Chapter 2: Kyle

I look up to see all eyes on me, oh god, what is Cartman going to say about me? "Go on Stan." I mumble under my breath while looking back down solemnly.

"Okay. Kyle, in my opinion, you are most at fault in my death," What, how am I most at fault? I look back up to see, yet again, all eyes on me, so I look down for the third time today.. "I bet you just thought, 'What, how am I most at fault?' am I right? Well, if you do not interrupt whoever is reading this, if anyone is, I'll gladly explain." Stan cleared his throat and wiped his eyes of some stray tears. "Where do I begin Kyle? I guess from when we first met is a good place. In preschool, you were the first person I talked to, because, back then, I was quite shy. The first words you said to me were, "HAHAHAHAHAHA you are so fat!" which I was. But let me explain something to you all the reason I am-well was by the point your reading this-fat, was because food was like an anti-depressant for me. The reason I needed an anti-depressant was because about three years before that I had realised that I didn't have a dad. It was during Christmas, after going to church with my mom and seeing other families that I noticed something was missing from mine. Latter my mother brought out Christmas dinner and set down mine and her plates. I then looked over the table for the third person: My father. After about five minutes of eating my mom looked over to me and frowned, "Eric, why haven't you touched your dinner?" she asked.  
"To which I replied with, "Mommy, where's daddy?"  
"She looked shocked to say the least. Not once had I ever enquired about my father. "Err…Daddy doesn't like Christmas, Eric." Was her reply. At first I thought she was being truthful, but then I thought, 'who doesn't like Christmas' so I asked another question.  
"Why doesn't Daddy like Christmas" I asked her.  
"He…he just doesn't, Eric," She told me back.  
"It's not always Christmas! Where's Daddy the rest of the time?" I questioned. She just responded with little 'err' noises. So I asked one more question. "Does Daddy not like Eric?"  
"No, no, no, no, no! Daddy loves Eric, very much!" she informed me. But I didn't believe her, so I ended up having three portions of Christmas dinner and a couple of different deserts. And since then I have always had a lot of food at Christmas as well as Fathers' day. Well there you have it, the reason why I am fat. I thought I might as well tell you now since I will never get another chance to. As well as being the first one to make fun of my weight, you were also the first person to know about my mom being a crack whore. So what did you do with that information? Tell everyone in our Elementary School class, of cause! But strike three was when I invited you to my house for a sleep over one day in first grade and you asked where my dad was and I told you that I didn't have one and the Monday after people around school were either laughing at me or asking about my dad."

God, this is all my fault, I never should have done that! Why did I have to say all that? This is all my fault! What had he ever done to me?

I look up again to see a few people scowling in my direction. Stan sniffles, then decides to continue, "So I combatted your insults with three of my own. Or the three 'J's' as I liked to call them. 'Ginger, Jersey, Jew!'" I couldn't help but giggle a bit at that, I know I shouldn't, but the three 'J's' thing is a little funny. "But Kyle, I can forgive starting all of that. Because it's not like no one else would have made fun of me for being fat. And I doubt I could have hidden the whole 'Whore mom, uncaring dad' thing for that long anyway either. But Kyle do you know what your last words to my face were? Well, let me jog your memory. I believe your exact words were, and I quote, 'Fuck off fatass! Nobody wants you here so why don't you just go fucking kill yourself! You fat fatherless fuck!' at least that's what I remember." Everyone in the room gasped and turned their heads back towards me, some with a look of shock, some anger, but most a look of sorrow.

I sniffle, wiping a tear from my face, "Go on Stan." I say, in-between sobs.

"Are you sure, dude?"

"Yes!" I shout more angrily than intended.

"O…kay, where was I? Oh yea," Stan replies, sombrely, "Now, Kyle, if by any chance you actually care, don't blame yourself, I was already planning on doing it anyway. All I was stating there where your last words to me, or at least as close as I can get to your last words.

"I just want to tell you one last thing, before I move on to the next person, I did, honest to god, like you." I began to shiver. How could those be his last words to me? After everything he just said to me, making me believe, and rightfully so, that it was my fault he is dead, and then say he actually liked me all this time.

"God I am so stupid!" I mutter under my breath. I then just flooded into tears. After what feels like hours of endless crying, I stop and wipe my face.

"W-who's next S-Stan?" Kenny muffled, trying to hide his tears behind the hood of his orange parka.

"Next is…S-Stan."

* * *

A/N: I tried to make a sad story of why Cartman is so fat. Tell me what you think of it and tell me how I can make it better!


	3. Chapter 3: Stan

Oh god I'm gonna have to read my own message aloud! Please don't be as bad as Kyle's! Please don't be as bad as Kyle's! "Well are you going to read yours Stan, or not?" Craig asks monotonously, though the look on his face is clearly saying, 'Please take as long as possible!' I sigh and begin to read.

"Stan, you are as much to blame as most other people in this letter, but, that's only a small amount of blame because all you have done is make fun of me, like Kyle…"

"Oh god, no. I can't stay here anymore!" Kyle said rushing out of the room, crying.

"I-I'll go get him!" I say before running out after him. I find him in the boy's bathroom looking at himself in the mirror, a disgusted look on his face. He spits at his reflection and began crying again.

"What's wrong with me Stan? Why did I have to do it?" He sniffled. Then, with his hand balled up into a fist, he let out a roaring scream and smashed the mirror, shattering it into about a dozen pieces. He sighs, "I should be arrested Stan, it's all my fault! _I_ killed Cartman!"

"No…Kyle you didn't, you heard what he wrote, he said that it was bound that someone was going to make fun of him eventually!" I reply.

"I know that!" he shouts angrily, his slightly freckled face reddening, "But what about the last words I said to him? The whole, 'you should just kill yourself' thing!"

"It's okay, Kyle!" I assure him, patting his back lightly.

He shakes me off and turns from the mirror to face me, "Not it won't Stan! He killed himself because I told him to!"

"He said he was going to do it anyway." I remind him, after grabbing onto his shoulders, "Come on let's go back to the principle's office."

"No."

"Why?"

"I just don't want to!"

"Come on Kyle, just come with me! We still have to read the rest of mine, plus like seven others!"

He sniffles then lets out a defeated sigh, "Okay, fine! I'll come with you!"

"Come on, dude! There gonna get pissed at us!" he chuckles lightly. We get back to the principal's office and walk inside.

"Finally!" Craig says.

"G-go on Stan!" Kenny muffles through his bright orange parka.

I clear my throat mournfully, "O-okay! Where was I? Oh, here!

"…like Kyle. The only time we really hung out, just the two of us, was in fourth grade when we played on and crashed some random guy's boat." I let out a small chuckle, "I remember that." I say before continuing, "I was happy not getting blamed and letting global warming take the fall, but you, being a hippie, couldn't! Anyways, that was the only real time we did anything together. But for you it isn't the insults that made me want to do this, it was the fact that the only thing you have actually said to me since Elementary School has been 'hey fatass' or a variant of the sort, to which I would reply 'hey pussy' or 'hey fag'. Do you know why that hurts? Because after years of saying you hated me you finally just stopped caring!" No! I cared Cartman! Why couldn't he see that? I put my head in my hands crumpling up the paper while doing so.

"Err…Stan you're crumpling up the paper!" Craig told me. God what a fucking idiot!

"Oh, rally Craig? What other insightful information do you have for us?" I spit bitterly.

"Whoa…Stan, get the sand out of your vagina!" he snickers softly.

"Do you think this is funny, Craig?" I ask furiously.

"No! Do you?" he responds, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Then why are you smirking?!" I shout back.

"Me? Smirking? Oh god Stan! Are you high? No wonder Cartman calls –oh sorry, called –you a hippie!"

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, CRAIG?! WHY ARE YOU SUCH AN EMOTIONLESS ASSHOLE?"

"I-I th-think y-you t-two sh-should ca-calm d-down!" I hear Butters stutter from behind us.

"OH SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU PUSSY! AT LEAST I DON'T CRY WHEN BABY COWS ARE KILLED!"

"F-fellas, c-could y-you be qu-quiet!" Butters says again, still behind us.

"AT LEAST I ACTUALLY CARE THAT ONE OF OUR FR–"

"COULD YOU TWO JUST SHUT UP FOR ONE SECOND?" Butters interrupts me mid-sentence, causing all eyes to be on him. Although he had just had that, shall I say, out-of-character shouting fit–he also didn't stutter which only happens when he is supper pissed off–, he still had tears running down his face. "Stan, Craig, Eric i-is dead! He has given e-each of us one f-final g-goodbye, and y-you two are fighting a-about Craig being a monotonous asshole! S-Stan could y-you please con-continue r-reading!" Wow…Butters hasn't been that mad since, like, ever!

"I-I can't! K-Kenny could y-you…" I sniffle, "…r-read the rest o-of the letter?" I ask Kenny.

"W-well sure! Pass it over!" I hand the letter over to Kenny and he silently reads my section up until the part that I left off from. "Okay! Here we go!

"…finally stopped caring! Not that I can really blame you! So yea. It, for you, wasn't the bullying that made me want to, you know, kill myself, it was the whole ignoring me shit."

"Oh god! I'm so fucking stupid!" I say to myself.

Kenny comes over, pats me on the back and waits for me to stop crying, all before finishing what Cartman had written, "Oh and, Stan, just like Kyle, I honestly did like you and also considered you one of my best friends!"

"Oh my fucking GOD!" I say before bursting back into tears. "Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid! I AM SO FUCKING STUPID!"

"It-it's n-not y-your fault S-Stan!" Butters assures me before embracing me in a hug. I don't care if it make's me look gay, I need this, so I hug Butters back.

"Thanks Butters!" I say once we release, "I needed that!"

"W-well, gee, Stan, it was nothin'!" Butters says, but there was no hint of his usually happy–go–lucky voice in there, it just sounds depressed. That is so not what Butters is like! Sad butters is actually kind of freaky!

I look to my left and see Wendy looking down. Weird.

I hear Kenny clear his throat to get our attention, it works. We all look up at him quizzically.

"Next is…" his eyes widen showing small amounts of fear and dismay running through his baby blue eyes, I think I know who it is already "next it K-Kenny!"


	4. Chapter 4: Kenny

Oh god! I have to read my own one aloud! No, no, no, no, no! Well, I guess I just have to read it! And on the bright side, it'll be muffled by my parka! "Kenny, I have one main thing to say to you…I ad–" Wait did I just read that right? No, it can't be! I just keep reading and reading but the same words are there, constantly, never changing!

"Come on Kenny!" Craig says.

"I admire you?" I say, in a questioning tone.

"Huh?" Craig replies.

"I-it says, 'I admire you'!" I answer.

"What else does it say Kenny?" Stan asks still crying, but his sobs are slowing down.

"Kenny I admire you because your parents are alcoholics, your poor, you live in the ghetto and a load of other shit, but you're still happy. Or at least seem happy. That is why I consider you my best friend. Yes Kenny I do consider you my best friend, it wasn't just some ploy. The reason that, while you were lying there on that hospital bed, I didn't try harder to keep you alive was because I thought you were just going to come back again." What does he mean 'come back'? No one remembers that I die! But does…he? "Yes Kenny I have always known that you die almost every day from some random cause…"

"Stop being a jackass Kenny! You don't die every day so stop using Cartman's letter in trying to convince us!" Craig snapped, an indifferent look on his face, as he leaned against the back wall, arms folded.

I shoved the paper in his face, pointed to the part I wanted him to read as well as shouting angrily at him, "Well explain this then!" His eyes darted across the page, reading each word intently.

"What the…" he said raising an eyebrow, "That's impossible!"

"It's true! Now do you believe me when I say that I die?"

"I-I guess. But I'm not one hundred percent on board with it." He declares, looking very defiant and self-righteous.

"Just _CARRY ON READING _Kenny!" Kyle shouts, randomly becoming enraged by my constant stopping. Maybe he is bipolar?

"Okay, okay!

"Whether it be from my ride at my theme park or being eaten by a giant bird, you always came back. I don't know why I remember you dying and no one else does. It doesn't really matter! The reason I didn't say anything to defend you when you mentioned dying was just because I didn't want to seem as insane as they all thought you were!" Well I guess I can understand that! "It's funny, you know, every time I hear 'heat of the moment' I still get all teary eyed, I don't know why, I just do. I still can't believe they all knew that song. Anyway, when you didn't come back after a couple of days following your death I began to get a little worried, so when Kyle and Stan came up with the plan to replace you with Butters," They did _what_? "What does he mean 'replace' me with Butters?! I'm gonna kick your ass!"

"Come on Kenny!" Stan pleads, waving his hands in my, obviously angry, yet teary eyed, face. "We were just kids! And besides, you were a way better friend then Butters!"

"Hey!" Butters cries out angrily, cleaning the tears off of his already tear stained face with his bony arm.

Kyle, then, tries to reason with me, "Yea! Come on Kenny, you were out of town for like two months!"

"I wasn't 'out of town'! I died of muscular dystrophy!" I shout back, rubbing my tears away from my eyes as they manage to escape.

"Okay, whatever. Just carry on reading!"

I let out a small huff, "Fine!

"I jumped at the idea, hoping to get you out of my mind. That didn't work, so I decided to have Butters wear your old parka." He _what_? I shot butters a glare.

"S-sorry Kenny"

I sigh, "That only made me feel worse, blaming myself for your not coming back. When the thing with the candy shopping spree came up, I came up with the idea to go to heaven and get it from you, in actuality, however, I just wanted to ask you why you're not back yet. After I drank your ashes and had you inside of me…" Hehe. I can't help but giggle at that. "I knew I had to get you out! And I did! Once you did come back I pretended to have not have said you were my best friend, because you seemed to have forgotten all about it. Or at least didn't take notice of it. As we got older, along with most other people, you began to drift away from me. Not that I blame you, mind you, I would have ditched me too! I became increasingly depressed as you started talking to me less and less. It got to the point I actually _**cried **_because you were so distant." What? I feel a fresh batch of tears well up in my eyes. Why didn't he just say? "I know, funny, right? Eric Cartman crying! Yea, well as rare as you may, or may not, think it is, it happens a lot more often than you assume! Do you remember when I faked turrets so I could say whatever I wanted? Well, after a while I started blurting out truths! One of which being that I cried myself to sleep at night because I don't have a dad!" He was being honest about that? Oh god! If only I had known! I could have comforted him! "It was actually more complicated than that. It wasn't just because I don't have a dad, though that was the main reason, it was also because my mom was…well is…the town whore, my best friends were stuffed animals, you all openly hated me, and stuff like that. So yea, me crying is actually quite common! So anyway, Kenny, I don't actually consider you a reason for me being driven to suicide. I just wish you hadn't drifted away. Well, bye Kenny. I want you to know that you are one of the only people I will miss, I just hope to god you will miss me too!" I will Cartman! I swear, I will! I burry my face in my hands and sob quite audibly. I can tell they can hear when Butters comes over and gives me a bear hug. I hug him back. "Thanks." I say to express my gratitude once we depart from each other.

Butters smiles back at me, blushing lightly, "It was no problem, Kenny!"

"So Kenny, who's next?" Kyle asks.

I take one glance down at the paper and then look up again, "Butters…"


	5. Chapter 5: Butters

Oh gee! Oh no! I begin to knock my knuckles together, I trait I have always had when I am nervous. My watery eyes dart quickly around the room to see most eyes on me! Oh no! Oh gee! What if it's all my fault? How am I supposed to live with myself? Oh god! Oh Jesus! I look into Kenny's eyes through his orange hoodie, his baby blue eyes meeting my own of the same colour, and I nod, indicating for Kenny to begin reading.

"Butters, I have no reason to blame you for my suicide…" Oh gee, there's always a 'but' after someone says something like that! "…because you were always really nice to me." Huh? That's not what usually happens. At least from what I've seen on T.V. that's what happens. "To me you were the closest thing I had to a father figure in my life." Everybody looks at me, most with confusion in their eyes.

"W-what do-does he m-m-mean 'father f-figure'?" I ask, though to no one in particular.

"Yea! How can Butters be a father figure to anyone?" Craig answers my question with one of his own.

"W-well if you'll l-let me continue I can tell you!" Kenny replies.

"G-go on t-then K-Kenny!" I say through choked out weeps of sorrow.

"I know it might be strange to hear that, especially from me, but I did, honestly, think you were at least the closest thing I had to a father! Here's why, Butters, unlike most other people, you still put up with me being an asshole, most of the time, like a father would, never really insulting me. I also remember times when you would stick up for me, most being in Elementary school." Oh well that's good…I think. "I obviously ruin your kindness by being the asshole that I am." Well…I never minded him being a little mean. I actually kinda liked it. "But there was a reason I was an ass to you, as is the case with everyone else. The reason why I made fun of you was, well, the same reason I like you, because of the fact that I saw you as a father figure…"

"Well, gee, I-I thought it-it w-would b-be a good thing t-to be a f-father figure t-to someone!"

"Butters, this is Cartman! His dad left him and his mom!" Stan reminds me.

"Oh, well I-I g-guess you're right."

"So…yea, I basically took all the anger I had against my dad on you. From that he left me and my mom without paying any child support, to the way he left me with a crack-whore."

"Oh…p-poor E-Eric!"

"Since I'll never get another chance too I'm just going to tell you some stuff that I have done to you that you don't know. Well for starters, when that skiing instructor said you had a little crap on your face, you did. I Hitler-ed you."

"Err…f-fellas what's H-Hitler-ing?" I question my friends.

"It's where you stick your finger up your ass and wipe the shit on someone's face!" Craig informs me.

"Oh… eww! That's disgusting!"

"You know that camp you were sent to in fourth grade, well, it was as a homosexual rehabilitation camp. You were sent there because while you slept at my house, I put your…penis…in my mouth and took a photo." He did _WHAT?_ He tried to put his penis in _my_ mouth? Why? "When I found out that makes me gay I asked Stan, Kyle and Kenny how to make myself not gay, and Kyle said I have to put my dick in your mouth and take a photo of that. While I was trying to do just that your dad walked in on us. And, well, you know what happened after that, don't you? Don't worry though Butters, I got what I deserved. I thought Kyle had stolen the picture, so I decided to take the 'thrill' he would get from humiliating and embarrassing me like that in front of the class, by showing them the picture myself." Well that's good, I think… "I can't really remember that many other thing I have done to you that you can't remember, so I won't waste your–or my–time.

"Oh, I almost forgot! One more thing, Butters, you are probably the closest person I know to my second best friend, because you are. You know when Kenny died, you took on the role of my best friend, and I liked you as my best friend! I know we could have stayed really good friends, maybe even best, if I had just admitted what I thought about you, but, well, I didn't. God that sounded so GAY!" I smile a little at that, but then immediately stop again quickly after I began. "So now neither of us can know how things could have turned out differently, had I actually been kind to you. But you never know, had I been caring towards you, you may have had a complete personality change and gone from sweet, kind Butters to some asshole whom everyone hates. And you don't want to be that! Well good-bye Butters, I'm sorry I was such a dick to you!"

I began to wail loudly into my hands, tears rolling down my wrists and into my light blue coat. Both Kenny and Stan come over towards me to give me a hug, to which, I respond by hugging back. I weep into Kenny's shoulders, hugging him and Stan tightly. As my tears begin to slow down in rate, I look into Kenny's sapphire eyes and can clearly see he knows how I am feeling. Why did Eric have to be so… stupid… and think we all hated him? I know I didn't! And I still don't! I-I just hope the accept E-Eric into Heaven, and not s-send him down t-too heck! I know He's done a lot of pretty bad things in the past, but god, if you're listening, please a-accept E-Eric Cartman i-into heaven, he has had a really hard l-life! So can you make an acceptation for him? Please!

Once Kenny and Stan release me, everyone turns to look at the orange clad boy, holding the paper in his hand.

I think he got what their eyes were asking him because he looks at his paper and begins to read the words from it like he knew it off by heart, "Next is Craig."


	6. Chapter 6: Craig

Fuck… I have been trying to fucking stall this as long as fucking possible by starting as many arguments as I could! Well, shit! I guess I have to deal with it now! I just have to keep my stoic expression. Shit! This is going to be fucking hard! I've spent so long building up a reputation of indifference to emotion with my gruff nasal voice, constant flipping people off and always wearing a frown! And all that can just go away with one little tear shed or a chocked out sob! Well I'm gonna have to fucking listen to it no matter what _I _want to fucking do! I'm going to say one thing in my mind the whole time this is being read: KEEP A STRAIGHT FACE!

"Craig… I hate you!" What?! How can he just start off like… like _that? _Fucking Kenny's stopped reading!

"Well? Carry on then!" I yell at him.

"Okay, Jeez!

"Craig… I hate you! I hate you because you're such an emotionless asshole! You act like one of those depressing emo pussy fags!" Hey! What the fuck is that supposed to mean?! "What do you have to be so stoic for? What's so bad in your life?"

Everyone looks at me questioningly, bunch of fucking assholes if you ask me! I decide to try and explain myself, oh shit I can't think of anything! "Well… well… it's just… oh, fuck you! I don't know!"

"Well Craig, ask yourself this, do your parents love you and show it in the best possible way?" Yes. "Do you have friends?" Yes, I think. "Is your mother your only parent _and_ the town whore?" No. "Does she constantly do drugs like coke?" N-no "Have you had to feed yourself since you were twelve?" Does he really have it that bad? "Do you have to pay the bills?" Pay the bills? "Have you ever had to literally had to drag your mom in from the backyard after she just had an orgy with a bunch of random men, none of which being your dad?" Done what?! "Do you ever feel you're the reason your mom can never be happy, that you're a burden?" I sigh. I don't have to deal with any of that, and I'm still an apathetic asshole! "Your life is perfect compared to most other people! I know I would much prefer being you instead of me! Then again, that's the same with most people in this fucked up town!" Shit, he really had it that bad?

I let out a slight sob, not loud enough for anyone to hear, and I'm looking down so they can't see the stay tear escape my eye.

"Craig you're the one person I truly hate." What the fuck?! "Well I say hate, I mean I won't miss you, as much as most people. I'll probably still think about you in my little corner of hell, that is, if I can remember anyone from when I was alive once dead. I don't know much about hell. Anyway, Craig, I have one request for you. You don't have to do it but I'm just asking. Could you learn to express your emotions more?"

"What? Why the fuck is he asking me that?"

"It'll piss less people off if you actually act thankful for gifts you get and stuff like that!"

I guess I could try that. If that's what he wants. Though I'll have to do it gradually! I can't just show up to school one day acting like some emotional pussy!

"If you are gonna show your emotions more, start by expressing how you truly feel about this whole situation. I don't care what it is! I'll be dead. Just show your true emotions!"

Each and every person in the room turns their head to look at me quick enough to see my second stray tear of today roll down my colourless cheek, dripping off, causing a slight sound to be heard in the deathly quiet room. I usually like quiet, silent even, but this… this is eerie… almost, creepy. Almost. That's probably only because of the reason we were called here in the first place. Anywhere can be creepy if your there because someone committed suicide!

Everyone was looking at me quizzically. Why the fuck are they looking at me? Then I notice. Fuck! I've let more than just two tears fall now! Shit! That's way more than two tears! There falling out of my eyes so fast I actually think I'm crying more rapidly than Stan does when he sees someone hit an animal, or some stupid shit like that! I just lean up against the wall and sob into my hands.

Butters, the fucking pussy, comes over and tries to comfort me. Fuck that! I'm not some FAG! Swatting Butters away with one hand, I use the other to wipe off my tears. While holding back anymore more tears from being let loose, I scowl at everyone else here. Screw them if they think I'm a pussy! Well, they're crying, so they'd be fucking hypocrites!

I sigh, my eyes now dry, face emotionless again. "Carry on Kenny!" I say, still sounding impassive.

"T-that's it, dude!"

"Okay… well?" I say raising a black eyebrow.

He looks at me strangely. Fucking idiot! "W-what?"

God damn fucking dipshit! "Who's next?!"

All eyes on him, yet again. "Oh… Timmy!"

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry if Craig's thoughts and the way he acts was a little OOC. This is how I thought he would act.


	7. Chapter 7: Timmy

"Timmy… Tim, Tim Timmy!" Timmy mutters under his breath while I was sat next to him, rubbing his back with the one hand not in my crutches.

"J-Just get o-on w-with it Kenny"

So Kenny, doing as he was asked, then began to read, "So… Timmy, this is going to be pretty short because we really don't know each other. But that's because… well, because all you can say is your own name as well as a couple of others like Jimmy's. Actually I think Jimmy is probably the only person who can understand you." I think that is true as well. I do understand what he means most of the time. Huh, I never really thought about that! "Well, all I really have to say to you is that I'm sorry for always making fun of your mental handicap. Always saying that you're self-centred, a retard and you know stuff like that! It's funny, you know, I don't even know whether you can understand what you are hearing. I'm fairly certain you can because I remember times when you would act as though you understood by pointing at certain related things during conversation. So… yea… that's all I have to say. Again sorry it's so short but you know, we never did talk to each other for obvious reasons. I feel like I just repeated myself. Oh well, what can you do? So… yea… bye then!"

"Timmy… T-Timmy!" Timmy began to softly sob into his hands.

"I-it'll be–be o-okay Tim–Tim." I say, continuing to rub his back soothingly.

"Timmy, Timmy, Timmy, Timmy!" Timmy mumbled into his wet hands.

"Y-You c-can say–say w-who's n–n–n–n, w-who's n-next now Ken–Kenny!" I tell him.

"Okay, next is, Jimmy!"

* * *

A/N: Again, sorry this is so short. I was going to add Jimmy's message into it but I decided to keep it in the same style I've done the rest of this fanfic. Next chapter will be in Jimmy's POV as well.


	8. Chapter 8: Jimmy

Oh boy. It's my turn now. Oh well.

"G-g-g-g-go on–on K-Ke-Ken-Kenny. W-w-what does t-t-t-t-t-the l-letter s-say?" I ask.

Kenny clears his throat, wipes away a tear and begins to read my section, "So, Jimmy, just like Timmy's, your section is pretty small compared to the other ones. But, again, that's because we hardly ever talk. I just remembered the one time we really hung out. As usual, it ended up leading to trouble. If you haven't figured it out yet, it was when _you_ created the Fish–Sticks joke."

"Oh yea, I remember that. HA HA" I laugh at the memory.

"It also got celebrities involved, just like all the other times. I still, to this day, can't believe that Kanye West killed Carlos Mencia, got away with that, but, as well as that, thought that he was a gay fish! He even lived in the water for like, six months! What the fuck? I swear he should be dead! Anyway, I also remember taking all the credit for making the joke. In my mind I actually thought I made it up. I only realised about a year ago that I didn't. I was watching a comedy show when one of the comedians brought up the fish sticks joke. I began to think back to the day we made it and realised that it was just you. I can't believe I almost died by telling that lunatic Kanye West that it was just me! You know, Kyle said that it was my ego was so big that I convinced myself that I created it. He was so wrong! I actually have a really low self–esteem!"

"No. He can't have a low self–esteem!" Kyle said. He then sighed, "Sorry, just carry on Kenny!"

"I actually have such a low self–esteem that I try any possibly way that'll make me look better to the ones I love, like my mom. Or at least try to convince myself that I'm good enough for them. I have actually been taking diet pills for about three months now to try and get thin for the woman I love. Anyway, back to you, there was also that time when I was running away from my home because I thought my mom had stopped loving me. I remember after Stan, Kyle, Butters and Kenny I tried to stay with you. I can't believe I didn't even know what your surname was!"

"Ha! I-I re-re-re-re re-re-re-remember th-that a-as w-well?" I said.

"So, all I have left to say is I'm sorry and good bye, Jimmy Valmer!"

I smiled. He actually knows my last name. I wiped away a stray tear and sniffed.

"G-g-g-g-g-g g-go on K-K-Ken."

Kenny gave me a small, sad smile and said, "Next is Clyde."


	9. Chapter 9: Clyde

Clyde? Oh god! My name's Clyde! I'm next. I can't be next! I'm already bawling, I can't deal with this! I have to leave!

I stand up to run away, but get quickly pulled down again by Token.

He kisses me on the cheek and turns to Kenny, "Go on Ken." T hugs me tight.

"Clyde, you may have forgotten this, but you are one of the closest people to me in this town."

I raise an eyebrow, "What?"

"By that I mean on the family side and how your relationship with them is."

I sniffle, "Oh."

"As you know, your mom's dead, as is my father. We both have the belief that it's our fault, at least you did. We both have one sibling, well, I used to. He kind of died in his Asylum about a year ago. And we both have one parent who is constantly going on dates with others, if you can call whoring a date. See, the same."

I tried to make myself smile, but the memory of my mom causes me to burst into another round of tears. T hugs me tighter, kisses me on the cheek and whispers, "I'm here, Clyde, it's gonna be okay."

I look up into his eyes and smile. "G-go on K-Kenny."

"You've probably forgotten this too, but in fifth grade I found you crying by a dumpster behind the school. You were holding a picture of your mom. When I asked you what was wrong you said that it had been exactly one year since your mom had died."

I sniff, "oh, yea, I-I remember that." I wipe my eyes with a tissue as Kenny began reading again.

"I don't know why I broke the character that had been built up for me over the years, maybe it was because I could relate to your situation or maybe it came down to something more, I also don't know why you trusted me, but when I offered to try and help after school you accepted. That night you told me how you blame yourself for your mother's death and I told you about how I had directly caused my father and his wife's death through a complicated scheme that worked by me manipulating Kyle and Stan. I also told you about how my half–brother lost his mind following the after mentioned events and how he was determined to ruin my life. You are the only person I directly told about how my mother's sweet personality was just a cover for her drug crazed lifestyle and that the only reason she spoils me was to get me to shut up."

"I should have told someone!" I say as I lean in closer to T and rub my wet eyes.

"You also promised me two things then. One was that you wouldn't side with _anyone _during arguments that involved me that you'd just stay out of it. The second was for you not to tell anyone about my mother's lifestyle as I believed that I would be taken away from her."

"O-oh," I sniff and wipe my eyes, "at least I kept my promise."

"I also have to thank you Clyde." Kenny continues, causing me to look away from T to face him and raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"T-thank me? W-why does h-he need t-to thank me?"

"I have to thank you for never actually starting any arguments with me and for the couple of times you actually helped me. You were one of the only two people who were nice to me most of the time. The other being Butters, like I have said. I guess what I'm trying to say, Clyde, is that you are one of the only good friends I have and are also one of the only people I have acted like a good friend towards. You haven't caused my death at all, this is basically just an apology for acting like an asshole to you, like I was towards everyone else. I'm also sorry that you're the fattest kid in the class now. So, bye Clyde. I'll say hello to your mother for you, if I see her."

I give a grim smile though by this point I'm fully wrapped up in T's arms, crying into his already soaking wet shirt. He rubs my back genteelly, kisses my forehead and hugs me tighter.

Butters comes over to me as well. He smiles warmly at me, though it seemed like it was tough for him to do. "It's okay, Clyde." He says. "Were gonna be here for you." God, how can Butters do that? I know he is just as sad as anyone else, but he is comforting me.

"Who's next, Kenny?" Token asks.

Kenny looks up, "Next is, Token."

* * *

A/N: The rest of the chapters will be about this length. I don't really feel like apologising for the shortness every time so I'll just do it here.


	10. Chapter 10: Token

Shit! It's me next! Despite him being a racist, I actually do care about Cartman. But I honestly doubt he knew any better. Actually, I'm pretty sure his mom was a racist as well.

I sigh, still holding Clyde in my arms, and say, "Go on Kenny."

Kenny looks at me with his glassy blue eyes through his Parka's hood, "Token, for you, I have quite a few things to be sorry for."

"You're telling me!" I mutter under my breath so no one hears, which they don't.

"So let's begin with the most obvious one. The racism. As you know I am not only racist to blacks. There are others: Jews, Mexicans, Asians, the British and French People–like Pip. Jews are the one I discriminate against most, but Blacks are a close second." Lucky us! "I'll give the reason for all my discrimination later in this letter, but I am sorry. There was also that time I threw a rock at you and was sent to Juvenile Hall for committing a 'hate crime' against you." Oh yea I remember that. "You know what I found out recently? I found out the only reason you got me out of Juvenile Hall was because I was fat and that made your sledge go faster so you could beat the girls. Throwing the rock at you wasn't the worst thing I ever did to you, that was probably when I shot, and almost killed, you for stepping inside the red circle, which was lava! Oh, and if this is racism, then I'm sorry too but there was that time I killed all my stuffed animals so I could 'grow up' like you guys wanted."

"H-he did what?" Wendy asks, which was, I think, the first words she said since we were called in.

Stan holds her tighter, "You know when the whole school had to give up recess for extra PE classes and we all told Cartman to grow up and then it seemed someone was out to get him? Yea well he kinda lost his mind for a bit and 'killed' his stuffed animals."

"Oh," Wendy sniffs.

Kenny continues. "There was also other times I made fun of you but not about you being black. Like when we all made fun of you for being rich and then you called in more rich people for you to play with. They were all black by the way, I don't know whether anyone in this damn town noticed, besides Garrison. But seriously, Token, why the fuck did you get so worked up over us calling you rich? I mean, that's a good thing, right?"

I smile. But, like most smiles had in this room today, it was a grim sad one, "Yea," I chuckle. "It is."

"What I'm trying to say is I was a total ass and I am very sorry for said asshole–ery. Like I said previously I will tell you why I was a racist, and sexist, person while I was, you know, alive. So, bye Token.  
"Oh, and PS you are quite lucky to have Clyde, so you know, don't be douche! It's not a way to get people to like you, believe me, I know from experience!"

God, that's it, the last thing he will ever say or write, directed totally at me. A couple of tears slip down my cheek and I feel a slim finger brush along them. I look down and see Clyde smiling up at me. I lean down and kiss him. Cartman's right, I am lucky to have Clyde.

You know what, I don't care if Cartman was a racist, he probably had a good reason. And even if he didn't, it wasn't like no one else in this fucked up town is racist. Our fourth grade teacher, Mr. Garrison –well it was more Mr. Hat –was a racist and everyone just turned a blind eye to that but when Cartman said anything that could be classed as racist everybody, including myself, got all up in his face trying to get him to take back what he said. I remember just one other time when someone else done something racist and it actually got a reaction and that was when Randy Marsh said 'nigger' on national T.V. and was known as the 'nigger guy'. Then tried to apologise to the Black community. He ended up making it illegal for anyone to say the words 'nigger' and 'guy' within seven other words of each other! Like, why didn't they just make it illegal to say 'nigger'? I'm getting off track.

I look into Kenny's eyes and ask, slowly, "Who is next, Kenny?" I know it's either Tweek or Wendy.

He looked up and said, "Next is, Tweek."

* * *

A/N I know I kinda went off track near the end butI was just trying to make the chapter longer.


End file.
